


Wakandan Nights

by TheIntelligentHufflepuff



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sam Wilson Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 12:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7170224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheIntelligentHufflepuff/pseuds/TheIntelligentHufflepuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Witnessing Rhodey's fall leads to a sleepless night for Sam Wilson, dredging up old grief and unpleasant memories. Luckily, Steve is a good friend and well practised in dealing with ghosts in the nighttime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wakandan Nights

The shared living room of their suites in Wakanda was simplistic yet elegant in design- all understated sofas and  pile rugs in muted tones that would have Sam's mother cooing. Personally, the decór wasn't Sam's thing- he preferred the soft slant of moonlight through floor to ceiling windows, the quiet trickle of water down the stone feature in the corner. It was a good place to calm restless dreams. 

"Hey, Sam." 

He glanced up briefly to nod in greeting, then reverted his gaze to the lush jungle outside. Steve- dressed disarmingly in a white cotton t-shirt and sleep shorts- settled himself down a polite distance away. Usually Sam would offer some snarky comment, but tonight...he just wasn't up for it. 

"I heard what happened with Rhodey." Steve said softly "Are you okay?" 

Sam started "What?" 

Steve didn't seem phased "What happened with Rhodey. How he fell. You saw it?" 

Sam nodded, slightly overwhelmed. He realised that he and Steve were friends, of course, but the man had spent so much time being Captain America recently that Sam had kind of thought he'd forgotten to stop. But he had- the concerned blue eyes tilted his way were all Steve, and they were here for him. It was an invitation to share the burden that Sam couldn't resist. 

"Yeah, I saw it." He replied, voice scraped up by the emotion of recollection "It brought back some memories."

Steve nodded sagely, a slight glimmer in his eyes that spoke of suspicions confirmed. Other than that he just looked sad. 

"I figured it would. You wanna talk about it?" 

Sam hummed "Kind of. Mostly not." 

Steve raised an eyebrow at Sam, who raised an eyebrow right back. Ain't no Wilson getting sassed out by a geriatric. A rueful smile flickered across Steve's lips as he turned his face away once more. 

Two minutes later, he spoke up "Tell me about Riley. Please." 

"I just said I'm not gonna talk about it."

Steve shook his head patiently "I know. But, y'know. What shit did you two get up to in college, where was his favourite place to eat. That kind of thing."

Sam pursed his lips, considering. On one hand, chatting about his old friend with his new friend might help to, who knows, make his life less Before and After. Cement new relationships, all the stuff he encouraged his group at the VA to do. On the other hand...for months after Riley’s death Sam spent his days trying to catch a glimpse of that familiar smirk, startling upright in cafes and public transport sure that he’d heard Riley’s voice telling him to budge up. Once, Sam woke up bored on a Saturday morning and got as far as ringing Riley’s old number to see if he wanted to come over before the disconnect tone stopped him dead in his tracks. Sam had to sit down after that, grief wrapped so tightly around his rib cage he could barely breathe. 

"You don't have to." Steve assured him "It's just, I'm here if you wanna talk. I get it." 

Sam knew he did, more than anyone else. He stayed silent. Cautious, considering, weighing up the options with what was possibly an inordinate amount of thought. Steve took Sam’s lack of response in stride, shuffling closer to knock their knees together. Intimate, but not invasive; comfort only if Sam let it be. 

He let it be. 

Obviously, Sam had friends down at the VA and from the Air Force- he was approachable, which was what made him so good at counselling. But he hadn’t really connected with any of them the way he had with Riley, hadn’t let himself. Then came Steve Rogers, all mirthful teasing and hundred-yard eyes, buoyed only by the strength of his convictions. It was strange, really. Sam had idolised the Howling Commandos as a kid, and now here he was, counting the man behind Captain America as one of his best friends. 

Steve hummed “So...how are you finding Wakanda?” 

Sam snorted “What, we making small talk now?” 

“Well,” Steve shrugged, huffing “It works for Bucky.” 

“Really?” Sam asked, turning to Steve incredulously.

Steve nodded “I think it helps him remember that he’s not back with them, just talking about little things that they wouldn’t have bothered with.” 

Sam nodded pensively. Then a thought struck him- “How do you know when he’s awake?” 

Steve grimaced, looking away down the hall that led to Bucky’s quarters “He screams.” 

“Ah.” Sam offered, not too surprised that he hadn’t noticed. When he wasn’t having his own nightmares and knew he was safe, Sam slept like the dead. He’d suffered many a prank at Riley’s hands because of it. 

Steve shook his head, twisting so that he faced away from the corridor “We’re talking about you now, though. Or Riley, if you want.” 

Sam titled his head, observing the bags under Steve’s eyes, highlighted by the ambient light. He sighed “Only if you say something too.” 

Steve looked immediately uncomfortable. 

Rolling his eyes, Sam shoved him lightly in the shoulder “Come on, man. I’m offering to hear all about the good old days without even complaining once. I might even pretend to not be weirded out by your forty cats and collection of Judy Garland CDs.” 

Sam laughed lightly at his own joke. So what? It was 3:00 am and he was discussing shared traumas with a twenty-something superhero who was also over ninety. 

Steve shook his head, sighing over-dramatically “Fine. I’ll say one thing, and one thing only. What do you want to know?” 

Sam took a moment to think critically, trying to pinpoint the one question that would give him any kind of insight on Steve’s night terrors. Eventually, he spoke.

“Out of everything that happened in the ‘40s, what stuck with you the most?” 

For a second, there was dead silence. Steve licked his lips, then asked “With the Commandos, you mean?” 

Sam nodded. 

Steve exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair. He wouldn’t look at Sam as he said “Probably the way they looked at me when I gave the order to return to base after...after. I had...” his eyes flicked to Sam, then away again “I had brought up the idea of retrieving the body, but we had to get Zola back to be interrogated and it would be a lengthy operation behind enemy lines that we couldn’t risk. I knew that, and I guess they must have known that on some level, but...God, for that one moment.” 

Steve laughed mirthlessly, rubbing surreptitiously at his eyes. Sam watched him vacantly, horrible empathy welling up inside him. When Riley went, all the clean up team found was his dog tags, mangled and blackened in the scorching sand. But it was something. The thought of never looking, never knowing...

“Sorry. I’m not a very good friend.” 

“Bullshit!” Sam protested fiercely, too loudly. 

Steve startled, eyes widening in surprise then disbelief. He opened his mouth to protest, but Sam glared at him until his jaw clamped shut. 

Sam’d deal with that particular issue another day. For now, he was going to lighten the mood. 

“Once, Riley got so drunk he spent half an hour flirting with a fire hydrant. He complimented its knobs, said they were the reddest knobs he’d ever seen.” 

Steve snorted. 

“He asked it for its number.” 

“Seriously?” 

Sam nodded gravely. 

“What did the fire hydrant say?” 

“Well, funny you should ask...” 

****  
Three hours later, Bucky wandered in to the kitchen to find Steve and Sam sat at the marble topped table, the pot of coffee between them half empty. They were both laughing, evident tiredness suppressed by thrill of their conversation. 

Bucky hesitated on the threshold of the kitchen’s tiles, unwilling to intrude on the moment. 

Steve noticed, of course, motioning to the seat next to him with a blinding smile and an invitation to “Join us, we’re sharing embarrassing stories.” 

Bucky sat himself down, quietly revelling in his proximity to Steve. During his months alone he’d had a lot of time to ponder his friend, but with him right there Bucky’s memories and feelings seemed all the more tangible. 

Sam reached behind himself to snag a mug off the counter, sliding it over the table to Bucky. He reached over to pour himself some coffee, then settled himself gently against Steve’s side. 

“So,” Sam asked eagerly “What have you got on Steve?” 

“Well,” Bucky smiled tentatively “I think there was one time when...”

**Author's Note:**

> Sam Wilson is one of my favourite characters in the MCU, and I felt like the effect of Rhodey's fall on him could have been explored in more detail. Also, I couldn't resist throwing in a bit of Steve angst because in my head cannon I feel like he is a very good friend and willing to sit people down and listen (like with Nat in CA:WS), but he doesn't feel like he is because he spent so long as skinny Steve-people whispering behind their backs about why Bucky would want to be friends with someone like him- that it's been absorbed in to his psyche. Also, I'm a little bit crap at catching typos so if you see any feel free to give me a nudge. 
> 
> Rambly note over.


End file.
